"Now, I call him a plumb failure.

With fightin' goin' on all the time, an' fevers layin' aroun' fur you, I call it somethin' jest to live, an' I mean to stay in these parts till I'm a hundred.

Why, that Alexander never had time, Paul, to think over what he'd done.

I wouldn't change places with him, I think I'm a heap sight better off." "I agrees with Sol ag'in," said Tom Ross, who had been in deep thought.
"In dang'rous times it's doin' a heap jest to live, an' a man who dies off at thirty-two, all through his own foolishness, ain't much to brag about." Henry laughed.
"Paul," he said, "you'll have to bring out better examples of greatness to satisfy Sol and Tom." Paul laughed, too.
"I just tell things as they are," he said.

"Maybe they are right." Henry went to the door and looked out.